


bad dreams

by cresswell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswell/pseuds/cresswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous requested stora + eyelid kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bad dreams

Cora’s nightmares got the worst during the full moon. Sometimes she’d wake up with her claws sunk into her pillow, nearly howling with fear or sadness or whatever emotion plagued her in her dreams. Stiles had taken to spending the night at the loft in the few days leading up to the full moon, because even though Derek was a werewolf too, he didn’t quite know how to comfort Cora. (Stiles didn’t really, either, but his presence seemed to calm her down.)

One night he was laying on Derek and Cora’s couch, deep in a book while Cora slept in her bed in his peripheral vision. Derek usually gave them their privacy as long as Stiles understood that he’d lose a limb if he took advantage of Cora.

His eyelids were just getting heavy when Cora’s nightmare started. She kicked out, getting her leg tangled in her blanket, and Stiles lowered his book in worry. She stilled, but her breath seemed to catch in her throat and a small sound of distress slipped from her mouth, her arm flying up to drape over her forehead. Even in her sleep, she somehow looked panicked and stressed.

Stiles set down his book, facedown so he wouldn’t lose his place, and stood up from the couch, stretching out his tired limbs. Cora’s fangs were out, he saw, and if she kept biting her lip, she’d pierce the skin for sure. He sat down on the edge of her bed and touched her shoulder. “Cora. Hey, Cor. Wake up.”

She cried out, her face wrought with distress in a way it never was while she was awake, and Stiles gripped her wrist in his hand before she could swing her arm at whatever invisible attacker she was up against. She strained against him, afraid and unaware, and he leaned across her to pin both her hands down, narrowly avoiding getting scratched in the face. “Cora! Wake up!”

She did, taking a shuddering breath, her eyes wide and yellow. Her body was writhing beneath him, still in fight mode, and it took a moment for her to focus on him. “Stiles?”

"Yeah," he breathed, aware that both their hearts were beating alarmingly fast. "You were having a nightmare."

She flushed faintly, embarrassed, and averted her gaze. She looked exhausted. “Thanks for waking me.” She flexed her fingers and Stiles let go of her wrists, sitting up. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"No," Stiles said. There’d been a few times when she’d swung and he hadn’t dodged quickly enough. "You’re good."

Her eyes had turned back to their normal hazel and Stiles watched, dazed, as she touched her fingers to her lips lightly. They were a little bloody from her teeth, the puncture wounds already healed, and he realized belatedly that she’d realized he was staring at her.

"I’m okay," she said quietly, misreading his gaze, and licked her lips a little to get the blood off. "Thanks to you."

"Does it hurt?" It was the dumbest thing to say, so of course it’d been what came out of his mouth. He wanted to smack himself in the face. At her confused look, he added, "your lips."

"Oh." Cora frowned. "No."

"Good," Stiles said, the word nothing more than a breath, and then bent down to kiss her.

He was still kind of sitting on her hips, so the angle was perfect for pressing their lips together. He felt her go still beneath him, like she was surprised, but then she came alive. Her body curved towards his, her hands slipping along his jaw, and she turned so he tumbled off her hips and onto the bed, their legs getting all tangled up. There was a faint metallic taste from the blood, but it was still glorious; everything about it was glorious. The room was so quiet, Cora’s heart slamming against his wrist, and she wound her arms around him like she couldn’t get him close enough.

Their lips slipped apart on accident, and Stiles was breathing hard, turning his face into her cheek. The skin was hot from her being flushed and his hands settled on her hips, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on her hipbones above the waistband of her pajama pants. She made a quiet noise on an exhale, shaky and unstable but in a good way, like him.

He put his lips to her ear. “You should get some rest.”

"You too," she said, lowering herself onto her pillow. He hair was messy and beautiful. "Don’t think I don’t know how shitty that couch is for your back."

Stiles smiled at her, his fingers tracing the edges of her face. Her eyelids fluttered shut at the contact, like it was sensory overload, and he smoothed his fingers over the faint worry lines that had appeared on her forehead.

He bent down, kissing each of her eyelids in turn. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She didn’t open her eyes, but her lips had pulled into a small smile, her breathing already slowing with sleep. “Promise?”

He kissed her nose, and her face scrunched up adorably. “Promise.”


End file.
